


Bitter

by Miss_Vile



Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Ed is an evil murder baby, Handcuffs, Jim is a right asshole, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: "Say hello to Miss Kringle for me.”
Relationships: Jim Gordon/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma (mentioned)
Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661929
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here is the continuation of this accidental series! I'm posting each "chapter" as their own fics so you can read each one as a stand-alone. This one makes reference to the previous ones, but you don't necessarily have to have read them to get the gist of their dynamic.

“What're you gonna do?” Harvey asked him.

Jim opened the car door before turning back towards his friend. They were both tired. Worn out. Jim was fairly certain his nose was fractured. Harvey had already gone above and beyond for him and he refused to ask him to do more and risk his freedom and career any further.

“I still have some friends I could ask for help,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. And his pride.

Without looking back, he got out of the car and made his way toward 805 Grundy.

He knew that it was probably a mistake crawling back into that hole, but he was running out of options. He had no choice but to see if the former Gotham kingpin and his... _friend_ could help him. Oswald would have the resources-- perhaps even offer him a sanctuary where he could rest-- and Ed would undoubtedly be able to unravel the puzzle.

The Penguin had been released from Arkham before Jim's escape from prison. Jim thought about reaching out to him but he felt guilty and ashamed about leaving him there. He kept having to tell himself that men like Oswald Cobblepot deserved to be imprisoned. It was a lie-- a _mantra--_ that got him through his day. Jim just wanted to live his life with Lee and their child. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving her alone. Though, in spite of his efforts, it still didn't turn out as he'd wanted.

After that heated morning he spent with Ed and Oswald, his mind had been fragmented. Which only made Lee's confession that she was pregnant weigh on him even more. Especially given that she chose to tell him not a few feet away from where he, the Penguin, and Ed had just had sex.

Jim had to make a choice for the sake of his child. And that choice meant hurting the men he'd grown so fond of...

Breaking into Ed's apartment was easier than it should have been. All he had to do was climb the fire escape and find the unlocked window near the kitchen.

So long as Ed's schedule hadn't changed since he'd been at Blackgate, he should be returning home from the lab within the hour. Provided something hadn't caught his attention and he wasn't hyper-fixating on it like he often did. Jim smiled at the visual it conjured.

He enjoyed how bright his eyes had gotten when reading over Dr. Crane's notes on the fear toxin or even how beautifully his mouth hung open when he got to see the effects of Viper up close and personal. That look on his face shouldn't be as endearing as it was, but Jim couldn't help himself. He could easily imagine the brunette forensic tech mewling beneath him with that same expression.

“Hi, Ed,” Jim said as he heard the lock on the heavy metal door. Ed gasped and recoiled at the sudden intrusion.

“Please. _Please_ , don't hurt me,” he pleaded and backed away.

“No, relax. I'm not gonna hurt you,” Jim held his hands up in reassurance, “I need your help.”

“My help?”

“I didn't kill Pinkney. You have to believe me.”

They circled around one another like two predators fighting over territory. Ed saw an opening and darted over to the table by the kitchen, putting it between them as an extra safety measure.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Ed leaned against the counter.

“I need to find the man who framed me.”

Ed looked at him but didn't say anything. Jim cleared his throat and continued.

“Whoever it was, he covered his tracks well. But I have something,” he reached for his back pocket and pulled out the envelope, “A recording of his first call to IA. IA secretly records everyone who calls in.”

“They do?” Ed chuckled nervously.

Jim was slightly taken aback by the question. More importantly by Ed's odd demeanor. It made him feel uneasy. He shifted his weight.

“Those _sneaky_ little buggers. Uh, and what did- what did you hear? If you don't mind my asking.”

“Not much. He disguised his voice. But there are other sounds on the tape,” Jim explained, “I figured, you work with audio. I was hoping you could help me.”

“Jim,” Ed smiled, eyes suddenly dark, “My friend, you've come to the right place.”

The hairs on Jim's neck stood on end. Because, for a fleeting moment, Ed sounded a lot like Penguin.

* * *

The sun had already set. By this point, Jim wished Ed had offered him alcohol instead of tea. He considered asking but didn't want to push his luck. He knew Ed hadn't forgiven him for his betrayal.

After Penguin's arrest and imprisonment, Ed hadn't been the same. He was quiet, pensive, and even hostile towards his co-workers at the GCPD. He'd often storm out of the room anytime the Penguin came up in idle conversation. Ed seemed even more depressed after losing the Penguin than he did after Kristen Kringle left town with Tom Dougherty. Jim, of course, knew why.

“I'm afraid it's a dead-end,” Ed told him. He didn't sound nearly as remorseful as Jim felt he should have.

“We should at least clean the tape,” Jim suggested. He didn't want to give up just yet.

“Right,” Ed set the tape to rewind before clearing his throat, “You need more tea.”

Jim rubbed at his eyes. If this really _was_ a dead end and the audio couldn't be salvaged, he wasn't sure where else to turn. Lee had already lost the baby and left town, Don Falcone was long gone... he still had Penguin as an option, but he was likely more angry than Ed was. Though, that did make him wonder...

“Have you heard from Penguin?” Jim asked.

There was a crashing sound. Jim turned around to see that Ed had fumbled and knocked over a few glasses with the kettle.

“You alright, Ed?” Jim stood and walked toward him.

“Right as rain,” he answered hastily and set the kettle on the stove, “Why do you wanna know about Oswald?”

“I just figured you would have been the first person he'd contact after getting out of Arkham,” Jim sighed, “How's he doing?”

“He's... fine.”

“You don't sound so sure.”

“He's not _here,_ is he?” Ed gestured to the bed.

“Did you two have a falling out?” Jim couldn't help but be sad at that. Those two really had seemed to care for one another.

“Don't pretend like you care,” Ed spat, “You're the one who left him in Arhkam after he begged you to help him.”

Ed rolled up his sleeves and took a step closer. Jim stood his ground.

“He was _always_ there to bail you out and you left him there,” he jammed a finger to Jim's chest, “Now his brain's scrambled.”

“Scrambled?” Jim furrowed his brow, “I heard rumors that he was sane now.”

“He was never _in_ sane,” Ed quipped.

“He was a psychopath.”

“ _Psychopath_ seems a strong word,” he glared.

“He murdered countless people in cold blood. He's sick.”

“You say that yet you've killed lots of people, haven't you?”

“That was in the line of duty,” he didn't budge.

“And a person who would kill in cold blood is a psychopath?” he smirked, “See, I knew the rumors weren't true.”

“What rumors?” Jim asked.

“About you killing Galavan,” Ed took a step closer, towering over him. He licked his lips as he eyed the former detective up and down, “You would never do that. That would make you like the people that you're hunting. Sick. Diseased.”

The kettle whistled.

_“Fine,”_ Jim snarled, also taking a step closer until he was practically nose to nose with him, “I get your point.”

Something shifted in Ed's posture. He wasn't backing down necessarily, but his shoulders went slack and his expression softened into something more... familiar. Something akin to the look he gave him after that kiss they shared on the bed.

Jim tensed the moment Ed suddenly grabbed him by the chin and lifted his face towards him. It was like Ed Nygma was two separate people on some sort of pendulum swing.

“We're not that much different than him,” Ed scowled.

“Yeah. I'm slowly figuring that out,” Jim finally admitted.

Ed let go and turned his attention toward the neglected kettle. Jim watched as he slowly poured the hot liquid over the tea. Ed bounced the bag in the water and they both watched the color darken with each plunge.

Jim felt himself lean in and salivated at the tension that crawled up Ed's frame. The taller man didn't say anything in response. Slowly, Jim placed his hands on Ed's slim waist and nipped at the exposed flesh above his shirt collar. It was slightly awkward given how much taller Ed was, but Jim found a way to make it work. He always did.

Ed sighed under his touch. Jim, invigorated, trailed his tongue over the back of Ed's earlobe. Both men chuckled at how much it made Ed quiver. Jim ran his finger up Ed's arms and felt the raised bumps against his calloused fingers. Ed spun around and swallowed. He looked uncertain.

“Did I misstep?” Jim asked, his hand still hovering over Ed's exposed forearm.

“Sorry. No,” he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “You and Oswald... you're the only two people I've really felt connected to like this.”

“What about Kristen?” Jim asked.

Ed set his jaw, suddenly on edge. His eyes darted back and forth around Jim's face like he was searching for something.

“Sorry... Didn't mean to make things more awkward by bringing that up.”

It was no real mystery that Ed had been hurt by the abrupt breakup with Kristen Kringle. Jim wanted to help the forensic tech find some closure with it by investigating what happened to her. A part of him-- a nagging instinct at the back of his mind-- wondered if Ed had been involved somehow. That something happened to Kringle and Dougherty and Ed covered it up.

“ _Rotten,”_ Ed had said with a mischievous little smirk. Rotten like a corpse in the ground, no doubt.

Jim had ignored that theory because the thought of nerdy, innocent little Ed Nygma doing something so heinous seemed ridiculous at the time. However, waking up to the surprise that he and _the Penguin_ were in some kind of relationship-- whatever the boundaries, if any-- made him second guess.

Jim felt himself growl. A low, guttural bellow that rumbled in his chest and made his mouth water. His curiosity and fear at the mystery of it all coalesced in his gut. It exposed the layers a deep-seated part of himself wanted to carve away and bear witness to. A part of himself that he kept hidden. The part that made him no different than Penguin and his cohorts.

If Ed _was_ like them, like he said, it made Jim want him even more. He wanted the satisfaction of dominating him and of having power over a man so cruel and vile and who had the potential of ripping him to pieces without anyone at the precinct even knowing.

The prospect of danger went straight to his groin.

Finally, he pressed his lips against Ed's. He tasted so much different than Oswald-- overwhelmingly of green tea and toothpaste. He still smelled like mint shampoo and lemon cleaner. The contrast of it made him think he must seem dirty by comparison. Filthy in mind and body, which seemed fitting given the circumstances.

Ed pushed him towards the bed and Jim felt a pang of guilt in his chest. The bed seemed so much colder without Oswald there to share it with them. The look on Ed's face let him know that he felt that emptiness too.

Jim's back hit the mattress with such force that he practically fell off of it. Ed held him down with a firm hand as he undid Jim's belt buckle. He helped him rid himself of his jeans by kicking off his shoes and scooted further onto the bed. Ed loomed over him and kissed him. Their teeth clacked together as Ed struggled to find his hands. He laced their fingers and pressed their palms together. Jim could feel the heat as Ed squeezed.

Jim grumbled against Ed's mouth at the fact that they still had far too many clothes on. In response, Ed just lifted their hands above Jim's head. Ed continued to kiss him and bite at him. He felt his eyes close as he let the man ravish him with his mouth. He figured he might as well just enjoy the ride, so he grabbed a hold of the metal bars on Ed's headboard.

His eyes shot open when he heard the distinctive _'click'_ of handcuffs.

“Ed?" he tugged at them, “What the hell?”

“I can't run the risk of you running away before I'm done with you,” Ed tore open the man's shirt in a gesture similar to Oswald's that fateful morning. Jim gasped as Ed bit down on his pectoral.

“I'm not going to run away, Ed. Undo the cuffs,” he tugged again, this time bruising his wrists.

“No,” he nibbled at the soft skin around Jim's nipple and shimmied himself down Jim's muscular frame.

“Dammit, Ed. Quit fooling around!”

Ed ignored him as he hollowed his cheeks and swallowed him down. It certainly shut the former detective up. He slowly released the man from his hold as he carefully raked his teeth along Jim's length.

“You really want me to stop?” Ed asked as he wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and obscenely sucked at the head.

“N-Nevermind,” Jim's eyes rolled back, “Keep doing that.”

“As you wish.”

Jim was coming undone. His fingers were going numb and he could feel the skin on his wrists chafe as he strained against the sharp metal. Ed must have stolen a pair from one of the other officers at the precinct because these were definitely not meant to be used in bed. Not that Jim was _really_ complaining. He just hoped that Ed still had the key to go with them.

He angrily bucked his hips forward and smiled at how it made Ed gag on him. Ed glared. God, he loved how it looked on him. He wanted to pull the man's hair out as he fucked his mouth. Ed licked a long stripe along his length and placed a kiss at the tip of the throbbing head.

His hands fisted the sheets as he wrapped his swollen lips around him and winked. It took Jim a moment before he realized what he was being invited to do. He pulled back and relished the feeling of Ed's tongue against his shaft. He plunged back inside until he felt the head of his cock slam against the back of Ed's throat. Ed hummed around him which just egged him on further.

He watched as he relentlessly fucked Ed's mouth. Tears streamed down his face as his whole body started to shake. His brow furrowed as he twisted the sheets in his grip.

Jim could tell he was getting close and a part of him didn't even want to warn Ed. The man deserved it after handcuffing him to the bed like he did. He could feel the heat boiling his insides and gasped when Ed suddenly pulled away.

He whimpered at the sudden coldness. As additional torture, Ed held him down by his hips and blew cool air over the remaining saliva that coated his cock.

Ed wrapped his mouth around him once more but his lips never touched him. Jim tried to buck his hips, but Ed kept him firmly in place-- teasing him and kissing everywhere except _there._

“Ed...” Jim panted, “Can I... Can I fuck you?”

Ed wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he crawled over the blonde. They locked eyes and Jim wondered if he was going to kiss him again. Instead, Ed coiled his fingers around Jim's throat.

“No.”

“E-Ed,” he struggled, “I can't... breathe.”

“Good,” Ed squeezed tighter.

Jim tried to inhale but couldn't. Ed wasn't doing this for the enjoyment of it. At least not in the sense Jim had originally thought. He kicked and tried to buck the man off of him but it was no use. Ed now had a singular focus and nothing was going to prevent him from completing his task.

“You took him away from me... From _us,_ Jim. Why?” Ed cried as his palm crushed Jim's throat.

He tried to bark out an answer but couldn't get any words passed his gritted teeth.

“Doesn't matter,” Ed chuckled, “I'll be burying you with the rest. Say hello to Miss Kringle for me.”

Jim's eyes glazed over as he listened to Ed's unhinged laughter. The last thing he saw before it all grew dark was his murderer's satisfied expression.

**Author's Note:**

> No worries. I promised more threesomes, so Jim ain't dead yet.


End file.
